


Interlace

by MusicPrincess655



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Shirabu's shit ass emotional stability, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 04:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8954029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicPrincess655/pseuds/MusicPrincess655
Summary: Semi didn't wear that many band aids last year, did he?





	

**Author's Note:**

> In which Shirabu takes care of Semi for once

Semi’s hands were more brightly colored.

It was the only explanation for Kenjirou noticing them more than he ever had last year. He put bright colored band aids on the blisters that formed from excessive serving practice, almost as if he was daring anyone to mention them – although his color blindness might have had something to do with it as well.

In contrast, the tape he used on his fingers was white and bland, although that might be because Washijou could overlook the band aids but not distracting tape. Especially not from a second string setter.

No matter how he looked at it, Kenjirou could only come to one conclusion: Semi was using more band aids than he had last year. He wasn’t sure why he cared, exactly. Maybe just because the flashes of green and red and blue every time Semi moved his hands were distracting.

“You’re staring again,” Taichi informed him.

“Shut up, I am not,” Kenjirou snapped.

“It was a full five minutes of blank staring,” Taichi deadpanned. He’d long learned better than to take any of Kenjirou’s shit.

“So what?” Kenjirou scoffed. “He uses bright band aids. They’re eye catching. It’s not my fault.”

“No one else seems to have a problem.”

“Go die, maybe.”

That should have been the end of it. Kenjirou wanted it to be the end of it. But Taichi wasn’t done.

“Why don’t you go talk to him if it bothers you so much?” he suggested.

“ _Ugh_. Fine,” Kenjirou snapped. “If it’ll get you to shut up, I’ll go tell him to stop putting so many band aids on.”

He stalked over to where Semi was practicing serves. Semi was completely focused on what he was doing, and Kenjirou stopped for a moment to watch. His form was perfect, it wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong admiring that.

“Semi-san,” he said in a lull between serves. Semi turned to give him that “go on” look he had. “What’s with all the band aids? Trying to make a statement?”

“They’re just for the blisters,” Semi said dismissively, already turning back to serve. That wasn’t right. A snarky comment like that from Kenjirou should have been an opening to a back and forth of banter that Kenjirou was slowly learning how to interpret for hidden meaning. Semi had never _dismissed him_ like that before.

“Fine,” Kenjirou snapped, turning on his heel. If Semi didn’t want to talk, that was just fine with him. It would be easier to practice without his overbearing senpai breathing down his neck, anyway.

That didn’t help explain why he was _definitely not fine_ the next practice. Taichi had spent so much time calling him for his staring that he’d spent more time snapping out of it than actually practicing.

It was unavoidable. He needed a serious answer, and Semi wasn’t giving it to him. This called for drastic measures.

He approached Tendou after practice.

“Tendou-san?”

“What can I do for my favorite kouhai?” Tendou grinned.

“We all know Goshiki is your favorite, don’t lie to me,” Kenjirou said. “I need to know if something is up with Semi’s hands.”

“His hands?”

“He’s wearing more band aids than he did last year. I think.”

Tendou dropped the grin and sighed.

“So you noticed too, huh?” Kenjirou nodded. “I’m keeping an eye on it, but I don’t think he knows I’ve noticed. If he did, he would try to hide it more.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“I’m still not exactly sure, but he’s not as careful with his hands as he used to be,” Tendou said. “I thought at first he was just moping because his girlfriend broke up with him, but that was months ago and he’s still the same. He’s definitely over that, so it’s something else.”

“Thanks, Tendou-san,” Kenjirou said, turning to leave. Tendou had given him more to think about than he’d had before. Semi wasn’t taking care of his hands? Why?

He was kind of offended that Semi had brushed him off. He’d thought they were friends. Sure, they argued a lot, but he argued with Taichi all the time, and Taichi was his best friend. Maybe Semi was different. That kind of hurt.

He’d tried going the sneaky route and it had gotten him nowhere, so that left him with only one option. He had to confront Semi directly. Directness wasn’t his strong suit, but this was starting to affect his setting. He had to do _something_.

“Semi-san?” he caught Semi after practice. “Tell me why you aren’t taking care of your hands.”

Semi gave him a blank look, but that didn’t deter Kenjirou. He’d already worked himself up to this, he had to see it through.

“I don’t know what you’re…”

“I’m not an idiot,” Kenjirou cut him off. “You never had to bandage yourself up this much last year. Something’s different and I want to know what.”

“Why do you even care?”

Okay. That hurt. A lot. Just because he argued with Semi and snarked at him didn’t mean he didn’t _care_.

“Why wouldn’t I care?” Kenjirou shot back. “You’re my reserve setter, of course I care about the state of your hands…”

“So that’s it,” Semi cut him off. “Sorry to be an _inconvenience_ to you, but if I ever do manage to make it off the bench, there’s not going to be a problem with my setting.”

“That’s not what I…”

“I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”

“Semi-san!”

But Semi was already gone. Kenjirou was just more confused than ever.

“I don’t even know what he’s being so pissy about,” Kenjirou complained to Taichi later. “I was just trying to see what was wrong, he didn’t need to brush me off like that.”

“Is that why you’re stress eating?” Taichi asked drily.

“I am not stress eating!”

“You don’t even like potato chips!”

Kenjirou shoved the bag away from his face and swallowed what was in his mouth, grimacing at the too-greasy taste.

“Why would he assume I don’t care?” he asked. It had been bothering him since that last conversation with Semi. That had been a week ago, and they hadn’t spoken since.

“Maybe because you act like you don’t?” Taichi suggested. “No offense, but the only reason I have any idea you care is because you’re stuffing your face with food you don’t even like because of him.”

“That doesn’t mean he needs to brush me off like this!” Kenjirou whined. “What did I even do?”

“What did you say to him, word for word?”

“I just said that of course I care, he’s my reserve setter!”

Taichi sighed.

“I want you to know that I say this with only the greatest amount of affection for you, but you have the emotional intelligence of a cantaloupe,” he said plainly. “Of course he’s upset. You took his spot on the team and this probably felt like you were rubbing it in his face.”

“But I wasn’t.”

“That’s how it sounds, though. You owe him an apology if you want him to talk to you again.”

“Who says I want him to talk to me?”

Taichi shook the almost empty bag of potato chips with a raised eyebrow. It had been full when Kenjirou got there.

“Fine,” Kenjirou snapped. “I’ll go…apologize. I still don’t think I did anything wrong, though.”

“You were trying to do a good thing and your words came out wrong,” Taichi told him. He wasn’t usually this soft, which meant Kenjirou really had fucked up this time. “Just explain what you were actually trying to say.”

Kenjirou knew where Semi lived, and there was every chance that Tendou would be out of the room visiting Ushijima. He made his way over and knocked. Sure enough, when Semi answered the door, he was the only one in the room.

“Shirabu?” He looked confused. “What are you…?”

“I’m sorry,” Kenjirou said before he could think better of it. “I didn’t mean to imply that I only care about you because of volleyball. We’re…friends, or at least I thought we were. I’m just worried about you.”

Semi stared at him, mouth hanging open. Kenjirou’s brain caught up to his mouth and he realized everything he’d just said. He turned to leave, already feeling the blush spreading across his cheeks, when Semi grabbed his wrist.

“I’m sorry too,” he said before Kenjirou had a chance to rip away. “I may have overreacted. I know you’re an asshole, but you’re not that much of an asshole.”

“Hey!”

“You’re not as awful as you seem.”

Semi brushed a hand affectionately through Kenjirou’s hair, although that might have been to mess up his bangs. Kenjirou smoothed them back into place, scowling.

They were back to how they normally were at practice, trading banter back and forth and even managing to practice together. Though Kenjirou would never admit it, Semi knew a lot of things he didn’t, and working with the older setter helped him a lot.

He noticed Semi twisting his wrists at the end of practice. That wouldn’t do. They couldn’t keep having this problem.

“Semi-san, let me see your hands,” Kenjirou commanded. Semi gave him a blank look, but before he could respond, Kenjirou had already grabbed his hands. “You have a blister forming here. You should drain it and put some antibiotic ointment on it, as well as a bandage. Also, your nails are getting long, you should trim them.”

“Who asked you?” Semi asked, snatching his hands back, but he didn’t sound mad. “If I needed a bratty kouhai taking care of me, I’d ask.”

“If you’re not going to take care of yourself, you leave me no choice!”

“It’s nice to feel so cared about.”

“Die.”

The next day after practice, though, Semi hadn’t taken care of his nails, and Kenjirou suspected he’d just slapped a band aid on his blisters and called it a day. Kenjirou was…surprisingly irritated at being ignored. Sure, he never liked being ignored, but it didn’t usually get under his skin like this.

He was completely justified in what he did. He would swear to that before anyone. Semi had ignored his perfectly reasonable advice, he was perfectly allowed to enforce it.

So it shouldn’t have really been a surprise to Semi when Kenjirou dragged him off after practice and started gently peeling his band aids and tape off.

“What are you doing?” Semi managed to pull himself together enough to ask after Kenjirou had already applied antibacterial ointment to most of the open wounds.

“Taking care of your hands, since you won’t do it yourself,” Kenjirou replied. He was too focused on what he was doing to look at Semi’s face, and maybe that was a good thing. After he was finished putting new band aids on Semi’s hands – all plain, because Semi’s hands were seriously distracting – he reached for a nail file.

“I’m not a child, I can take care of my own nails,” Semi said, trying to pull his hands back, but Kenjirou’s fingers had been strengthened from years of setting, and he dug in and held on.

“I know you can, but you didn’t, so I’m doing it,” Kenjirou snapped. He lowered the nail file and got to work.

“Brat,” Semi said above him, but he sounded amused. He sat still long enough for Kenjirou to finish.

Now that Semi knew Kenjirou was serious enough to take matters into his own hands if he was ignored, he started listening when Kenjirou told him what to do after inspecting his hands after practice. That became a normal thing for them, and the team just accepted it. Kenjirou took care of Semi’s hands. That was the new normal.

The thing was, even with the plain band aids, and fewer of them, Kenjirou still noticed Semi’s hands. Maybe he could play it off as watching to learn. Plus, Semi’s hands were objectively beautiful, there was nothing wrong with that.

His habit of inspecting Semi’s hands started to bleed into the rest of his life, though. Sometimes he would find himself holding Semi’s hand for no reason at all. He’d just reached for it out of habit, and Semi had let him.

He could be worried about that, but so far no one had brought it up, so he figured as long as he didn’t say anything, no one else would either.

They were on a bus back from a practice match, and Taichi had gone to sit with Goshiki, the traitor. In the shuffle of seats, Kenjirou had ended up next to Semi, which didn’t bother him like it would have at the beginning of the year. Everyone was tired after the match, so the bus was quiet, but Kenjirou had never been good at sleeping in cars. He was probably the only one awake.

Semi was dead to the world next to him, head against the window and hands resting in his lap palms up. For once, there weren’t any band aids on his hands, and only minimal tape for support that he’d been too tired to take off after the match.

Kenjirou didn’t realize he was reaching for Semi’s hands until he was already almost there. He stopped himself, but Semi hadn’t moved. The bus was silent. No one was awake but him. There were no consequences of picking Semi’s hand up.

Slowly, ever so slowly to keep from waking Semi up, Kenjirou picked up his right hand. It was bigger than Kenjirou’s, but not by much. It was callused where Kenjirou’s were still soft, but strong. Kenjirou cradled it carefully, feeling how it was soft even with the calluses.

He suddenly had the urge to press a kiss to it.

Kenjirou tried to shake it off by tearing his eyes away from Semi’s hand, and instead they landed on Semi’s face. He was reclined, somewhat facing Kenjirou, mouth open the slightest bit in sleep.

Now Kenjirou just wanted to kiss _Semi_.

He must have made some sort of noise, because Semi’s eyes slowly blinked open, sleepy gaze focusing on Kenjirou. Kenjirou froze, only now realizing that _he was still holding Semi’s hand_.

“Go to sleep,” Semi whispered, but even that sounded loud in the silence of the bus.

“I can’t,” Kenjirou whispered back. Semi twisted his hand in Kenjirou’s to lace their fingers together, using his grip to pull Kenjirou closer until he was resting his head against Semi’s shoulder.

“Then at least don’t bother people when they’re trying to sleep,” he breathed. He didn’t sound annoyed in the slightest. His steady breathing told Kenjirou that he’d gone back to sleep, and Kenjirou tried to get his blush under control. His fingers were still interlaced with Semi’s and Semi was warm against his cheek. He couldn’t quite fall asleep, but he did doze a little for the rest of the trip.

When they got back to the school, Kenjirou wasn’t entirely sure what to do about the fact that he’d been sleeping on Semi and holding his hand for the entire trip back. Semi didn’t let go of his hand, though, not until they both had to grab their bags, and then he just picked it up again as they walked to the dorms.

Kenjirou expected him to let go when they had to go their separate ways, but to his surprise, Semi walked him all the way to his room. He still hadn’t said anything, still wasn’t sure what to say, but he felt like now was the time to say _something_.

Before he could do anything, Semi lifted their joined hands to press a kiss to the back of Kenjirou’s. Kenjirou made the most undignified squeaking noise, spluttering.

“See you tomorrow,” Semi said, sounding like he was trying not to laugh as he let go and walked away.

Goshiki came up, yawning.

“Senpai?” he asked. “What are you doing? It’s late, we should…was that Semi-senpai?”

“Shut up!” Kenjirou snapped, pushing into their room. He’d deal with annoying senpai that might – _might_ – return his feelings in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Rejected titles for this fic: "Kenjirou that's gay" and "This user has a hand kink"


End file.
